


She who lives in The Darkness

by AquatiiicColony



Category: Cartoon Network Universe: FusionFall
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Anti-Hero, Dexter negotiates, Gen, Mandy is an isolator, Oneshot, Plotbunnies, Witch AU, long oneshot, random idea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-09-23 20:36:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20346340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AquatiiicColony/pseuds/AquatiiicColony
Summary: (I need a better title ugh). It was one warning; one warning that gave chills down everyone's spine: Do not go to that lonely house. The one who lives in that house has her shadows and they will eat you for supper. But, the boy genius has better things to do than wallow in fear. With heroes missing, lives destroyed, and, evidently, Fuse decimating them all, Dexter has no choice but to approach that door. But, will this girl cooperate with him or will her shadows make a meal out of him? Is she not what she seems? The only answer is through that door. (Witch AU)





	She who lives in The Darkness

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is something I never thought of doing, but this is a plot bunny that won't leave me be. I always like the idea of Mandy becoming the new reaper or the overlord of the Underworld when it comes to ideas in fanfics, but I also wondered about what it'd be like if something like that can happen in the FuFa universe. And so, the idea was born. Only, I made her out to be like this witch/shadow-woman 'cuz I thought that'll be something new. Don't @ me. Anywho, enjoy this bizarre idea! Also, this is my longest Oneshot ever; thirteen pages on Word Doc alone. It's a coincidence that this is posted on the same day of Writers' Appreciation Day, so this is a little something that we should all appreciate our work, no matter how strange our ideas may seem!

A pair of black boots, freshly made of a rubbery material and creasing with every single movement the person commits, clacked against the pavement, which contained hairline cracks spreading around it much like a virus. Hopefully, those cracks didn’t have the _true_ virus inside: That disgusting fusion matter.

It already soaked into the soil like a sponge, sucking dry of any nutrients that can be provided for local humans, creatures, any living being of all shapes, species, and sizes. Several farms were evacuated, stores have been abandoned, and some towns have become shallow, hollow husks of what they once were. Some innocent people didn’t have homes, some people’s faces were plastered on missing posters, and once more: Getting the upper hand in the war only proved to be jumping through an endless amount of hurdles.

But… this young man has a plan. A plan to turn the tides, to fight back even if it were to be on the brink of everyone, and to fight back so that Planet Fuse will be nothing more but a green dot. There will be no more worries about the world and no more worries about losing the people they all so dearly loved.

If only trespassing this obstacle wouldn’t be _so_ difficult.

The ginger scientist’s eardrums must have been grating due to the momentous warnings that were shouted at him, warned him that what he’s about to do would only end in misery. That he’s making a crucial mistake and that performing this kind of mistake will have Fuse swallow the Earth in whole. But, he knew of the potential consequences. He knew how this can end, and he’s more than _ever_ prepared for it (yes, prepared with his precious purple gloves too).

Inhumane croaks came from the wooden planks that supported the stairs towards the lonely house that stood in the middle of… well, _nowhere_. And not the place that is known as Nowhere, but… at the ends of Endsville, secluded off in the darkness as if the house itself was cursed (and, really, it might as well be). No one dared to go near it, no one dared to knock on its door, and no one _dared_ to speak of its presence other than to use it as a frightening warning; a warning to tell everyone to not enter and not go there. At any and _all_ costs.

The only individual who managed to burst inside of the house and not get himself dragged in and have the house lock him inside as if he’s a part of it now was truly suspicious at best. In fact, this dimwit even spoke of the owner of the house to be his best friend and that he brought her gift baskets and skulls for Halloween. Everyone thought he was out of his mind, and Dexter thought so too, but these details cannot be ignored and brushed aside for just plain stupidity and insanity. There’s something behind it and it’s time to dig deep into it.

After mustering out a deep sigh of confidence, the genius drummed his knuckles against the door, taking one step back as to give the owner time to either answer or to demand him to head back to once he came.

Neither of those outcomes happened just yet. The only sounds that followed were the billowing of the scientist’s lab coat and the creaking of blinds being opened from the window. A pair of dark, apathetic eyes creased in hostility, squinting and smoldering as if this “visitor” can be melted on the spot just by eye contact. And, just as quickly as they’ve been seen, they vanished almost _instantly._ The one thing that Dexter can make note of was that those eyes he’s seen were just the same ones that idiot described before.

_“She’s got eyes like coal! Ya know, like the ones that Santa gives to all naughty children on Christmas! Don’t worry; she’s nice and you get to meet all her shadow buddies!”_

He really doubted that these ‘shadow buddies’ and that this young woman can be anything near the description of nice and friendly. But, time will tell. Looks can be deceiving, but at the same time... you wouldn’t want to step inside someone’s domain and never get the chance to see the outside world again.

A solid moment passed until the door opened. Its hinges screeched like they were demanding to be free and detached from the door itself, rusty like old, scrawny bones that no longer support the being. The door, filled to the brim with splinters poking out of it, having claw marks that akin to wolverine claws was dented into it, and, as if it wasn’t obvious enough, there was a sign hanging on the door. A usual, ordinary ‘Get out’ warning sign. That was perhaps the _only_ thing particularly normal about this house.

Two feet stomped forward, their footsteps creating a tempo all too similar to a person’s racing heartbeat. It’s to evoke fear into the “visitors,” to make sure that no one will bother her again. It didn’t matter to her to what all those people see. All that mattered was keeping them away, and making sure that they don’t see her ever again. Although, she has a deep feeling in her gut, dragging her sixth sense like an anchor, and stating to her that this might be different.

She _never_ liked that feeling. It reminded her of _weakness._ It reminded her of weaklings that possess those emotions. She will never fall victim to those awful feelings. She’ll never succumb to them, and she doesn’t care for who stands in her way.

Not even this dork with glasses.

“I thought someone with your intellect can read the sign, but I guess you don't have enough IQ points,” she muttered bluntly, folding her arms across her chest as that glare on her face deepened. It was like her eyes are another realm, preparing to suck Dexter into it and to never return to it.

Yet, Dexter has to stand his ground. He cannot allow himself to fall into fear or he will never get this done. He has to get this done or nothing will be solved. Tensing his shoulders, he adjusted his glasses and stared back at the girl’s eyes.

“I am aware that you have a sign warning people, but this isn’t of the matter of getting inside of your house. This is something more important, and I need your assistance with it.”

The pale girl’s face has gone to a complete and utter blank with that statement as if this was the first time she changed her expression in years. Her black, thick eyebrows were raised right above her hairline, with one twitching at an alarming rate. Her callous, chubby fingers rolled up into fists, and her nails were beginning to claw into the flesh of her palms. It won’t be long until she’ll get to drip blood, whether that is her own blood or Dexter’s.

A pair of transparent, whispy, black creatures hovered over her shoulders, hanging off of them like snakes preparing to snare around her neck. With their red, beady eyes, they whisper at her in such a language and such a manner that perhaps no one but _her _can understand. Those whispers made her crane her head upward and she curled her fingers around her doorknob, opening the door further as to give an open invitation to her visitor.

“Alright… but I don’t serve muffins and hot tea to visitors.”

That alone got the genius gawking, as if that act of the other was foreign, and it could have been. After all, from listening to all those stories about this person, how could he ever predict that she would let him speak with her? Whatever the case might be, he wasn’t going to decline it.

Thus, he stepped inside. The door behind him shut with an ear-splitting _bang;_ loud enough to compete with the howling winds outside.

* * *

An eerie amount of silence dominated the household. It gave those bizarre creatures that follow the bizarre girl freedom to make some noise, but not enough to truly make their presence well known. There weren’t any noises other than the wind from outside. No beeping cars, no birds chirping and hanging off of gnarled tree branches, and, oddly enough, no fusions that stalk the streets. Heck, there wasn’t any fusion matter surrounding this place either.

Maybe this peculiar setting holds them off. Either that or that the fusions were too afraid to step on the blonde’s porch. Either way, it showed that she’s got some kind of ace up her sleeve. An ace that can be _useful._

Small chairs shrieked as they were dragged across dusty, wooden floorboards, and without a moment of hesitation, the two both sat from across one another. Dexter with his gloved hands clasped together and in his lap; the shadow woman plopping her elbows on the dinky table that stood in between them.

Now that he has the chance to see the feared person in front of him, Dexter can finally see what’s got under people’s skin when it comes to her. Her pink, flowing dress that’s hugging at her ankles and wrists have specs of red covering them, and even soaking the hem of it. And it cannot be an accident like she spilled a fresh coat of paint on her. No; that _has_ to be blood. There’s no other way around it.

Several skulls were surrounding the house. There were some on tiny tables and some on shelves. Some of them have decorations on them, and some have not. Some were wrapped up in ribbons like they’ve been gifted as presents.

Huh. So maybe that idiot wasn’t bluffing when it came to the gift baskets claim.

Drumming her nailed fingers on the table, slow and steady as her calm heartbeat, the blonde locked her eyes with the ginger like they’re magnets on a fridge. She would have insisted on one of her shadows to nip the guy in the shoulder if he didn’t focus on the racket she’s making with her fingers.

“...So, what is it that you want, four eyes? And you better not be asking me to grant a wish of yours or something as moronic as that. A common pinhead that comes here asked me for the _twelfth_ time this week.”

Well, that’s one thing that Dexter can get out of that boy: He’s persistent. And _annoyingly_ persistent at that. That’s not why he’s here, though. Not to make small talk. Nope. There’s a much more dire, pressing matter at hand.

“Well…” his voice tightened. He started tapping on the table too. Beads of sweat tracked down the sides of his head, and he’s, sure enough, got the girl’s attention. “I have heard of you and of the power you possess. The kind of power that can get fusions out of your way and, in turn, keep them out of your way.”

In a blink of an eye, he watched her arched a brow, and he cannot tell if it’s out of interest or questioning. “Go on…”

A rigid sigh escaped from his lips. He has to be mentally prepared for this. If he’s not, then this can go up in flames. This can have him be suffering under this girl’s house rules and eventually, be whisked away and to never go to his laboratory ever again.

He’s got to stand his ground. He cannot let horror stories and superstitions take over him.

“All I’m saying is… you got an opportunity of assisting us in this war. You can help to take care of the fusions and maybe help bring Fuse to his knees. I know that’s quite a thing to ask you, but… it can be a _great_ help to our forces.”

He blinked again, finding her cold gaze to be fixed onto him, casting a skeptical and fierce look. Her spine straightened and she punted the chair behind her, having it crash on the floor in mere seconds. She didn’t flinch.

More shadows gathered around her, looking like there’s a whole _sea_ of them near her. Each of them glowered darkly at Dexter, opening their tiny jaws that are ready to tear the genius’ head off, but the girl snapped her fingers, halting them in their spots.

Her fingertips nailed the edge of the table. She hunched forward, reaching Dexter by a centimeter. Her bangs could have easily braced against his ginger curls.

“And you want me to be your tool to bring down that giant glob? Why that’s _generous_ of you.” Her sarcasm came out like a dagger of ice that’s going to slit the boy’s throat any minute. “What more do you want? You want me to babysit your test subjects too? Give them long walks on the beach? Make them trample inside my house and never seen or heard from again? Take your pick.”

Dexter leaned back in his chair, feeling the back of it dig into his shoulder blades, making him all too uncomfortable. A part of him thought this would be a perfect time to bail, but he’s no quitter. He won’t let this just be a failed attempt. He has to try something else.

Raising an index finger up, he opened his mouth once more, hoping his words won’t be caught in his throat (or that she'll shove those words down his throat).

“Listen… if you help me, help us turn the tables on Fuse, then I won’t bother you anymore. Those fusions won’t bother you anymore. Maybe anyone who knows of you and what you can do for the war will leave you alone too. You won’t have them talking ill about you any-”

The threatening figure departed from him, now glancing out the shattered window. The same shattered window that reminded her of when her friend tossed a baseball at it, and he, from some sort of miracle, was able to play fetch with her shadows when she sicced them at him. As much as it gave her annoyance that they didn’t tear him apart, it kind of… _ugh,_ entertained her to some extent.

To think that someone like him, someone like Billy is willing to hang out with her and talk to her as if she’s a normal person instead of someone to be feared all the time (and, honestly, she takes great pride in being feared), it… it... 

It _perplexed_ her. It perplexed her that this poindexter too has come up on her doorstep, offering her something that might as well be impossible, improbable, and something that this boy cannot promise. 

Why promise something that will be impossible to happen? Why promise something that she doesn’t want to happen?

Yet, at the same time… she can’t step away from it. She’s not sure as to_ why._ Maybe it was that stupid humanity in that stupid heart of hers. Or maybe it’s the growing desire to see these new creatures, these fusions to shiver in terror as she harms them, turning them into green goop thanks to her shadows.

Yes, that can be it. That can be why. None of this of changing people’s perspectives on her. No; she wants that to stay the same. The fusions though?

Yes; that can be _so_ good to get them off of her back.

A pale palm of hers was held in front of Dexter, who can’t help but blink a multitude of times due to her action. No hint of malice was shining in the girl’s eyes. There’s only agreement and understanding; perhaps things that she hasn’t experienced in who knows how long.

Dexter’s fingers intertwined with hers, and both of their hands were shaken in agreement.

“Mandy… the name’s _Mandy.”_

The shadows smiled with glee.


End file.
